Torn From Hope
by aelwyn
Summary: A D/N. Daine and Numair's ship sinks and Daine is marooned on an island. Numair has also disappeared. Will she live? Will she ever get back to Tortall? Read and find out!
1. Problems Ahead

Torn From Hope  
Chapter One: Problems Ahead  
by starzsong magick

A/N: Please review! I won't post the next chapter until I get at least ONE review. One, people! That's all I ask! One! 

Also, this occurs... I dunno when. A year or two after The Realms of the Gods . I'm not sure though because I can't remember if Daine's 16 or 17 in it. Oh well.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Miles below the ocean, sea creatures of all varieties - sharks, whales, fish, dolphins, and more - thrashed, oblivious to the fact that a human wild mage sailed above them. One who can speak to animals, unlike the average human being. One with rare magical powers. One very average girl.

Veralidaine Sarrasri stood on the ship's rocking deck, leaning on the rail, and staring dreamily out into the water. A red-headed woman stood cautiously behind her, as if afraid she would destroy something if she moved. After a moment of silence, she moved forward yet another step.

"Daine?" she called.

Daine jerked out of her reverie, and whipped around to face the older, shorter woman. "...hmm?" she asked, still not quite out of her slight trance. She had been thinking, pondering. It was about nothing she wanted to discuss freely, though, and she blushed.

Alanna the Lioness and the King's Champion of Tortall had an inkling what Daine had been daydreaming about, but she kept it to herself. "We're having a meeting in the cabin." she announced softly, "You might want to come. No, you should ." the Lioness corrected herself.

Daine took one last glance out to sea and nodded. If Alanna thought she ought to do something, she should. She was nearly always right. 

The Lioness smiled cheerfully at her, but Daine thought she saw something else in her violet eyes - a glimmer of worry, perhaps. Daine shook her head at her foolishness. Worry? What about? It was just her overreactive imagination, brought to life even more so when she had learned that she had wild magic. 

Daine followed Alanna across the deck, down the steps, and through a door. The small room was lit by a single, swaying lantern. Taking a glance at it, she saw that it was almost out of fuel. She opened her mouth to tell everyone, but quickly snapped it shut. The faces of the people before her were grim; obviously her news about the lantern would be unimportant to them.\par \tab "Take a seat," a voice said, and she sat. Next to her in an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair was a tall, dark-haired lanky man. Daine smiled up at him. Numair Salmalín was a mage, her teacher, friend, ... and love. Creases of worry crossed his face; so Daine had been right when she thought Alanna had looked not at ease.

"Our weather-mage," began a man in the corner, Sir Gareth of Naxen the Younger, "has forcasted some... unsettling... occurences in the near future." Sir Gareth nodded to a younger boy, who seemed to be about thirteen years old, five younger than Daine's eighteen. He squirmed under Gareth's recognition. Daine though he seemed a little young to be on a mission as important as this one: Four days ago, King Jonathan of Tortall had received word from the Yamani Islands that there were pirate raids all over the island. He quickly agreed to send help, and later that day, Daine, Numair, Alanna, Sir Gareth, fifty soldiers, and some random knights had been chosen to journey to the Yamanis to help deal with the pirates. Daine thought that was odd; usually the Yamanis had been able to defend themselves.

Sir Gareth spoke again. "He has found some storm clouds to the north-west, which we are about to sail under."

"Is there no possible way to avoid them? Or perhaps sail around?" asked Numair.

The little weather-mage piped up, "No. They're all over. Like a barrier, sir." He ducked his head, ashamed-looking.

"There's no way you can change that. Don't be chagrined." Numair said, his university-superior vocabulary taking over.

The boy still didn't lift his head, though Daine could see that his blush had faded away.

"How much time do we have until the storm?" a knight asked.

"Will it be bad?"

"Do you think we'll make it through?"

Questions sounded across the room, their speakers sounding dubious and scared. Sir Gareth raised one hand in the air. "QUIET!" he boomed, and the cabin fell silent. 

"We have approximately two hours, to your question, Richard of Aqualake, and I have no notion of how it will be." Sir Gareth had formerly looked brave, but now fear played at the back of his green eyes. "Ask the boy." He nodded again to the weather-mage, and quickly swept himself out of the room, Alanna in tow. Five others began asking the boy questions. 

Daine tore her eyes away from the weather-mage and turned to Numair. "How could there possibly be a storm if there's no clouds?" she asked, dubiously.

The mage smiled, but his dark eyes remained still. "Storms appear quickly in the ocean." he explained, "It could be perfectly sunny one moment, and thundering the next." Numair took her hand in his. "Are you afraid?"

The girl shook her head no, then stopped. "Maybe. I don't know." She thought for a moment, then returned to the present. "Just a moment." Daine closed her eyes, and sent her magic down into the ocean to the creatures below. She was astounded with the amount of animals. Her magical hearing picked up hundreds of conversation between fish and other People. 

—Excuse me,— she began to the creatures, —But is your sort able to pick up future storms?—

A small butterfly fish chose to answer her, its voice in her mind high and squeaky, —Storms?—

Another fish joined in. —What's that?—

—Oh, um,— Daine searched for another word, but found none. —Um... you know, bang bang, water comes down from the sky?—

—The sky? You mean from The Above?—

—Yes.— Daine said, hopefully.

—The Great Tempest? Is that what you mean?—

Daine felt annoyed by the fishes' stupidity, but kept her voice even as she replied back. —I guess so.—

—We aren't the experts on when they happen,— remarked someone, —But we can easily tell that the Great Tempest in coming will not be... very... um, good.—

—Oh. Thank you.— Daine suddenly found herself shivering, and was brought back to the ship's cabin with a slight jolt. She looked into Numair's eyes, her own blue-gray ones now full of fear. 

"Yes, I'm afraid."

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Final A/N: Want the next chapter? REVIEW!!


	2. The Great Tempest

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Two: The Great Tempest  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: Review review review... etc.  
Also, this occurs... I dunno when. A year or two after The Realms of the Gods. I'm not sure though because I can't remember if Daine's 16 or 17 in it. Oh well. 

By the way, this is the *fixed* version! I'm sorry to whoever read it before I redid this. This should be a LOT easier to read.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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Daine's last words echoed around the ship's small cabin. She looked around, and was surprised to see that everyone was gone. Numair remained, though, and his hand was still gently clasped around her own.  
  
Numair jumped slightly after she spoke. "What?"  
  
"I'm afraid."  
  
He shifted slightly. "Magelet," he began, but his voice cracked and he stopped. Daine looked away, and uneasily began to study the floor. It had an interesting pattern to it.   
  
"It's stupid, I know," the wild mage said, "But the fish - underwater - said that," she gulped, "It'll be awful. And you know how fish under-exaggerate."  
  
Numair didn't, but he chose to keep it to himself. Daine heard him sigh, almost sadly, and then she felt his arm come to rest on her shoulders. She pulled herself over so that she was half on her chair, and half over the gap between, and leaned on Numair's chest.  
  
Trying to make conversation, Numair asked, "Were the fish... interesting?"  
  
Daine laughed despite her sense of being nervous. "Not exactly. They were fair stupid, if you ask me."  
  
There was silence for several moments. At last, Daine spoke again. "You know how the weather-mage said the storm is like a barrier?"  
  
Numair nodded.  
  
"Aren't you wondering if they're somehow part of it? Some of Tortall's most powerful people are aboard this ship."  
  
"They? Who's they?"   
  
"Dunno." Daine suddenly felt like she'd just heard a hilarious joke. Feeling crazy, she began to giggle, then suddenly, she burst out laughing. It felt right. It felt... natural. Maybe if she laughed enough, she could cure the world and all the Divine Realms. Of what? Daine had no clue. She just laughed, for an insane reason unknown.  
  
Numair tensed behind her. "What in Mithros' name...?" he muttered, and gently turned her head toward him, so he could look her in the face. Noting the dread in her eyes, the mage realized what was wrong: Daine was stricken with a bad case of anxiety.  
  
Daine stopped short, and looked around with a look of full-fledged panic on her face. "I've gone nuts!" she cried, "Horse Lords, I'm—" Numair put his free hand to her mouth.  
  
"Shhh," he murmured, "You're not nuts, you're just nervous. It's perfectly—"  
  
"NERVOUS?! IS THAT ALL?!" Daine burst out, as Numair cringed against her loud yell. "YOU'RE WORSE THAN A FISH, THAT WAY!" She stopped, and replaced her outburst with a more quieter tone. "I'm sorry. It's just... I don't know. Do you think this ship can survive the storm?"  
  
"I do not know." As Numair brushed Daine's brunette curls back from her face and placed his lips on hers, a rumbling sound could be heard in the distance. She stiffened and Numair released her.   
  
"I thought we had several hours." she said.  
  
"The weather-mage was wrong." Numair remarked simply, and after taking his arm off of her, he stood. "We ought to go to the room below. It might be safer."  
  
Daine nodded, and followed him out of the room where she had first learned of the ill-fate to come. The short flight of stairs to the ship's front deck were straight ahead; instead, Numair turned to the right, where a dark hallway beckoned. A heavy weight, like a pound of lead, seemed to settle in her stomach as she walked onward. It would not go away.  
  
After what seemed like eternity, they found the room where the rest of the passengers were, getting ready to wait out the storm. A few people looked up and gave a weak smile; most chose to ignore them. People had been coming in and out for the past half hour, reporting the latest news, or joining for safety.  
  
There were no seats left - after all, there were nearly sixty people in there already - so Daine chose to sit on the ground. Numair found Alanna, whispered something to her causing her to frown, then sat next to Daine. The wood floor, scratched from years of hard boots, seemed solid and comforting.}  
  
Murmurs of half-hearted conversation could be heard around the room when thunder sounded a second time. A few looked up in alarm; they hadn't heard it the first time. Daine simply sighed and stared at the floor, thinking of her animal friends at home. It worked. She actually took her mind off the storm for awhile.  
  
Soon after the second, a third noise rumbled, though it didn't sound as far away as the former. Daine shivered.  
  
After the thunder faded, sounds like pellets hitting metels were heard from above. Everyone looked up in alarm, the brave defiances on their faces gone at last. It was raining. The storm had begun.  
  
People stirred and the whispers went up in volume. Thunder became a regular occurance, and the sense of electricity in the air annonced the presence of lightening. Numair, who'd been silent for the past five minutes, turned to Daine.  
  
"D-Daine, I just wanted to let you know..." He trailed off.  
  
With amazement, Daine realized she'd never heard Numair sound this scared before. It was eerie. "Yes?" she asked, goading him on.  
  
Thunder crashed, and the rain pounded harder.  
  
"Ellie's shoe." he said. Daine shook her head. She couldn't have heard right. The rain was drowning everything out.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If... if this ship sinks, or... something happens to me," Numair paused for a brief second. "I just want you to know that... I love you."  
  
Daine was taken aback. He thought he was going to die! "I...I know, But you're a black-robe mage. You... can't." It was more like a command than a statement.  
  
"But just in case." Not caring about the tens of people around them, Numair kissed Daine again. She did not care either. Everyone already knew about them, so what did it matter if they saw them kissing?  
  
"I love you too, Numair." she whispered, and kissed him back.  
  
Suddenly, a feeling like a thousand bees stung them all. Daine cried out as she and most everyone else writhed in pain. Then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling left, though everyone still tingled with it. Feeling her hair, she noticed in alarm that it was sticking straight up, with an extreme static feel to it. Panicking, she tried brushing the frizz down with her fingers, but it didn't seem to make a difference. If anything, it made it worse.  
  
"Lightening..." murmered someone across the room.  
  
"Dear Mithros..." muttered another.  
  
Daine decided to try to make a deal with the K'miri god of lightening. If he wasn't in charge of this storm, who was? "Please... I don't know what you're called, but might you please take the storm elsewhere?" she called softly to the sky above.  
  
There was a change in the pressure, like someone was pressing a large weight on her.  
  
A low, hoarse voice responded in her mind. "I am not in charge of this. I did not create this. So I cannot help you mortals." It faded, and Daine shivered as there was another crack of thunder.   
  
"Thank you, anyways."  
  
Again, another bolt of lightening streaked through the air above. This time the feeling of electricution was agony; everyone cried out their pain. It seemed to be so much closer.  
  
It was present for less than a second, but the lightening seemed to have left something behind. A slightly bitter smokey smell filled the air—  
  
"FIRE!" someone yelled, and suddenly Daine found herself in a milling bunch of people, desperate to escape... but where to? There is no refuge, no place to get away, Daine realized, and grabbed Numair by his arms.  
  
"Numair! What's going on? What do I do? Can I help? Are there..." Daine didn't realize she was babbling until the mage pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.   
  
"You... you stay here." he commanded, voice shaky. "I'm going to help put the fire out."   
  
In a flash of a second, he was gone through the crowd of people.  
  
Daine sank to the floor, in a corner out of the way of people's feet. She felt useless. What if she transformed into an elephant and sprayed water with her trunk at the fire? No... that wouldn't work. Where would she get the water from, anyways?  
  
Gray wisps of smoke fluttered around the ceiling. The fire must be really bad, if smoke is in here! Daine thought, and jumped up to run out of the room. She didn't care if Numair wanted her to stay put. She had to make sure he was still safe, first.  
  
Slipping through the gaps between people, Daine finally made it to the deck. What greeted her nearly made her step back, but she held her ground. Where she'd been standing an hour ago was now totally covered with flames, along with half of the deck. Several passengers who had the Gift — Numair included — were desperately spraying it with water, but for some odd reason it refused to go out. It would be better if she didn't interfere. Daine backed up, and stood in the stairwell, watching the flashes of multi-colored magic flick around above her. If only she could do something!  
  
The floor beneath her sloped downward. Daine realized this, and stifled a scream. The ship was sinking. And she was going to sink with it, if she didn't do anything.  
  
"That's it!" she cried angrily to herself. Her elephant plan had to work. It had to. Taking a deep breath, she filled her mind with the gray, tough skinned mammals, and felt the railing beside her collapse as her new form filled up the entire stairwell, her cloths dropping to the floor beneath her. She climbed up and out, then turned to the side of the ship. The dark ocean lapped up against the ship beneath her. Daine the elephant dropped her trunk down into the water — it wasn't very far, since the ship had sank several feet — and brought up gallons and gallons of it.   
  
Turning to the raging fire, which was uncomfortably close to her now, she sent out a blast of water... in vain. The fire danced evilly in front of her. Daine made up her mind. She would put the fire out, if it was the last thing she would ever do!  
  
Suddenly the floor beneath her elephant form collasped, and she fell to the storage room below. She hadn't thought ahead about her weight; the floor obviously couldn't hold two tons of elephant up.   
  
She cursed, and shrunk back to her human body, pounding the floor in desperation. She hadn't planned out what she'd do when she was back to normal, either: her cloths were still up on the stairs, and she now wore nothing but the silver claw the badger god had given her.   
  
Daine looked up and realized the ship had sunk up to its deck. Water poured down on her, and she began to shake madly. Why was this happening?   
  
The only way she could get out of her trap would be to transform. Water was a foot deep when she replaced her human self with a large seagull. Taking flight, she flew up to the deck, but it was now completely underwater too. Little remained except for the two pitiful sails, waving out of the sea. Where had everyone else gone, then?  
  
Looking around, she found a cluster of people clinging onto a gigantic crate as the sea thrashed around them. She descended, and landed on it. Alanna looked up to her right, and Daine opened her beak in a gasp. She had never, ever seen Alanna like this. Ever. Her fiery hair was flat with water, and her eyes had a hopeless glaze to them. Wow, she thought.  
  
She examined the people around her, but none were Numair. Please no... she thought, whirling around. Alanna cleared her throat.   
"I don't know where Numair is, Daine." She answered Daine's unvoiced question.  
  
She doesn't know? Daine sagged inwardly. Maybe he was on another piece of debris. The wildmage thought of her human form, this time clothed, and transformed back.   
  
"Gods." Daine whispered, "Gods. This is not good."  
  
A gigantic wave rose up behind them, and as Daine gasped, it swept the crate over. She transformed again, this time a dolphin, so she could swim. Then, she shaped herself a human voice box. "Grab on to my fin!" she cried out, for anyone still alive. She felt several hand on her back. At least someone was still alive.  
  
As she was about to call out again, another wave struck her, this time with a piece of driftwood in it. It hit her head, and Daine literally saw stars. Ignoring the intense pain, she concentrated on holding her dolphin form. It didn't work. The water around her grew dark, and then black, as she sank into unconsciousness.  
  
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	3. Despair

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Three: Despair  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: Review review review... etc.  
Also, this occurs... I dunno when. A year or two after The Realms of the Gods. I'm not sure though because I can't remember if Daine's 16 or 17 in it. Oh well.   
  
By the way, this is the *fixed* version! I'm sorry to whoever read it before I redid this. This should be a LOT easier to read.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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There was a crunching noise as Daine opened her eyes. She lay there, unmoving, recollecting what had happpened last. At last it dawned on her: their ship to the Yamani Islands was sank by a storm, a "great tempest", as the fish put it, and she must be dead.  
  
Dead? Inwardly she shook her head. Dead people don't feel pain like this, she thought, and groaned loudly. The throbbing headache she had was the only thing on her mind now.   
  
The curly-haired brunette summoned up all her strengh and sat up, gasping. She was exhausted. Looking around her, Daine noted the sand, and behind her, a forest of palm trees. Then she remembered the crunching sound that had woken her up.  
  
She twisted around, and spotted a boy kneeling in the sand, picking at something. His clothes were ragged and torn - so were her's, Daine noticed with a wry smile- and she vaguely remembered who he was. That one boy, from the ship, who predicted the storm... "The weather-mage!" she gasped, and he jumped, and upon seeing her, stared openly.  
  
"I thought..." his hoarse voice trailed off.  
  
"Thought what?"  
  
"You were dead." he replied, still staring. "You're Daine, the Wildmage, aren't you?"  
  
Daine nodded. "And what's your name?" She was surprised she had never asked him that before.  
  
"Peseli Dakwich, ma'am." Peseli spoke softly.  
  
She smiled as Peseli gazed at her with watchful gray eyes, which he kept brushing dark straight hair out of every minute or so. Suddenly, a white macaw with a yellow crest fluttered down in front of Daine. It turned its black eyes toward her, and made a rude 'sqwak' sound.  
  
—What on earth are you doing here?— the macaw demanded.  
  
Before Daine had a chance to respond, the bird continued.  
  
—This is my land! Not yours. Though I'm surprised the lions haven't eaten you yet.— It gave a birdish shrug.   
  
"Erm..." Daine struggled with what to say, as Peseli gazed on in admiration. "Um... what's your name? And there's LIONS here?"   
  
—No, I was just kidding. And as for my name, I'm Regalio.— The bird now sounded friendly, rather than invading, as he had a few moments ago.  
  
"Uh, yes." Daine murmered. She cleared her throat, and continued louder. "Are there any other humans on this place?"  
  
—Humans?— Regalio chuckled. —Of course not.— He watched her eyes widen with amusement. —I've got to leave now. Later, maybe.— The bird took flight, looping lazily through the sky.  
  
"Hmph." she muttered, "Stupid jungle birds... good for nothing..."  
  
Peseli cleared his throat. "What did it say?"  
  
Daine watched a crab skid sideways on the sand, heading for the water. It muttered something incomprehensible, then it was gone in the glare of the sun. She sighed. "We're alone on this island."  
  
"You mean..." The boy's voice trailed off as he stared at his bare feet, then picked at a fingernail.  
  
Daine nodded. "I'm going to see how big this island is. I'll be back in a moment."  
  
Peseli looked slightly confused, as if he didn't know how that would be possible in such a short time, but he nodded anyway.  
Daine breathed in, then let herself change shape to a sharp-taloned hawk. No one would bother her when she's alone if she's in this form.  
  
A few seconds later she was a few feet taller than the ground, a bird of prey. The wild mage took flight, being careful not to whack Peseli in the head with her wings. Less than a minute later, she was far above ground, surveying the small bit of land below. It seemed to be about three hundred yards in diameter, with a small hill in the center, covered in bushes. Beyond that it was mostly trees, ending twenty feet away from the shore. Regalio was right; it was impossible for humans to build a town here. It was too small.  
  
Once she'd learned what she'd wanted, Daine shifted so that the breeze would carry her down, instead of having to fly. She felt weak already; obviously most of her strength had been drained when the ship sank. When Numair died, she thought, then shook her bird head sadly. He could still be alive. Maybe he was marooned on another island.   
  
She landed on the ground, and eased herself into her human body, aching all over. It would've been better to wait a day before checking this island out, she thought, but what's done is done.  
  
Daine looked around for Peseli. She was sure she had landed in the same place, but he seemed to have disappeared. Her print was in the sand where she'd lay, and there were the marks where he'd dug at something.  
  
"Weird..." she thought, and looked into the forest in case he'd ventured in there. But he was no where to be found.  
  
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	4. A Time of Mourning

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Four: Time of Mourning  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: Ack... sorry about the last two chapters. I thought you could do HTML but I guess not. Oh well. I'll get them replaced soon.  
  
And this chapter's sort of short, but I didn't know what else to put! I mean, the idea's over. Should I have made it part of the last chapter? 

The grammer in this has also been fixed. Sorry about the mistakes!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli, and the Mithran priestie guy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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In Tortall, a small crowd of people had gathered in the Sun God Mithros' temple in Corus. Flickering candles stood on tables and at alters, and the air was heavy with incense. Sounds of weeping could be heard as an old Mithran priest took his place at a podium, decorated with complex designs. He had only a ring of gray hair on his head, and his robes were black, the color of mourning. So were the clothes of the people who had sat in long row of benches, sniffling softly.   
  
"Several of our relief fleet to the Yamani Islands were taken by the Black God," began the priest. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Only two weeks ago, those now deceased were alive. We pray that they find happiness and comfort in the Realms of the Dead."  
  
Heads bowed respectfully as the priest paused. No one noticed when a person, in dark robes with a fancy border along the edges, slipped in, gender untellable. Its garments draped loosly around them, as if the figure hadn't eaten in a week. In an arcane, yet sorrowful fashion, it stopped in a dark corner. The person glanced up, once, at the main alter, taking in every object on it, from the lifelike painting of a young woman to the sticks of incense. Then, like the other mourners, it bowed its head also.  
  
The priest cleared his throat sadly, and continued. "There are separate services for each lost; this is for Veralidaine Sarrasri of Snowsdale, Galla, Wildmage, daughter of the hunt god Weiryn, and the Green Goddess, Sarra." He proceeded to tell a brief, but complete, life story.  
  
As the priest droned on, the stranger in the corner shook its head. "She should have stayed," it muttered, "I knew the Divine Realms were her real home. She is... was... so young."  
  
A sound like a hammer sounded on the great double doors at the end of the temple. Several turned; many jumped, scared. Suddenly a chunky gray pony barged its way through, joining the procession with a soft nicker. Onua, Daine's first Tortallan friend, looked at the pony Cloud sadly.  
  
"You wanted to join too, eh?" she said, almost jokingly, but she remembered what she was here for. Onua watched Cloud sadly for a moment, but turned to listen to the priest talk on.   
  
Cloud shook her head, tossing her silver mane in the air. She was frusterated. Daine had been her companion and friend forever, and she was the first human who could understand her. Pondering, as the priest went on and and two-leggers weeped, Cloud decided that she would try to contact the badger god. He had brought Daine back to life once, so couldn't he do it again? One part of her, the part that was more human than animal, argued that that was impossible. The pony chose not to listen to it.  
  
At last the service ended. Alanna peeked through her black veil, which conceiled her face, to the smiling portrait of Daine on the alter. She would not cry. She couldn't; she was a knight, she was supposed to be able to face tragedy. It was part of her job. An inner part of her rose up in defiance of her being a knight. She hadn't even been married yet, it said, and at that, Alanna finally broke down. She ducked her head so no one would see her tears.   
  
The black stranger in the corner shifted its weight, and finally walked up to the table with the portrait, and a few of Daine's belongings. It muttered softly as it fingered the few possessions. "I'll petition the Great Gods, by Mithros," the person said, simply, and left as silently as it had entered, robes trailing loosely in the candlelight.   
  
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A/N: Who's the black stranger? And what happened to Peseli in the last chapter? In less than a week the next chapter will be up (hopefully. Maybe I'll get writer's block. You never know.), so don't forget to come back! Reviews are cherished...


	5. Ozorne's Return

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Five: Ozorne's Return  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: This one's a little boring. It seemed like a good idea at first, but after I started typing it it began to sound boring. I don't want to cut it though, because if I do, the rest of the story is confusing. 

Chapter Six might not be out for a week or so because I think it'll be the most boring chapter by far, and it takes me forever to write boring things. Like for school. Ugh. I've got chapter seven or eight (can't remember which) written though. It made me despressed for the rest of the day, even though it has a (sorta) happy ending (just an innocent forewarning! hehe)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli, and the Mithran priestie guy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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That night, Daine dreamed of Tortall. There was a funeral going on; she couldn't tell whose it was, as the words spoken were unclear. She woke once, looked around, sighed, and went back to a fitful sleep. When morning came, she was relieved. The night had been pure torture, what with her being in an island, which could be home to all kinds of animals who would gladly feast on her, for all she knew. And, maybe she would find Peseli today.  
  
As she sat up, her stomach growled with hunger. Daine realized that she hadn't eaten since before the ship sank, and they was at least a good two days ago. She had no clue how long she'd been unconscious, so it could be more.   
  
Slowly, her still-weak muscles protesting all the way, she made her way into the palm forest to find food. There didn't seem to be any berry bushes, or fruit trees. Odd, she thought, and continued on.   
  
Daine passed a large, looming oak tree and, looking at the ground, jumped with surprise. There was an indented trail in the dirt below, much like a human body being dragged.  
  
"Peseli?" she called cautiously into the trees. No answer came. She bent and collected several large stones and sticks. If some animal had taken the weather-mage as food, then she had better be armed.   
  
Stealily she followed the path, which ended by a small, but deep pond. It appeared as if it had been dragged into the water. Daine considered her choices, and decided to go down under. He might not be alive, but at least she'd know what got him so she'd know what to look for later on.  
  
Stepping into the pond, she closed her eyes and thought of the small, two-foot shark-fish that inhabited oceans in the south. This water seemed salty, so she figured it would be safe, and plus, preying sea creatures would probably stay away from her.  
  
Her body shifted, and she shrank down into the water in the form of the fish. She waved her tail fin lightly and it sent her off, down into the murky depths.  
  
It was much deeper than she'd thought. Her maximum guess had been about twenty feet; already she was about thirty feet under, with yet more water below.  
  
Daine sank down until one of her fins hit a clump of seaweed, then another. She was at the bottom, but there was nothing except plants and a few trout. Looking around, she saw a round opening on the slope of the pond's floor. It looked like a tunnel, of sorts, and decided to see where it led, not thinking of the consequences.  
  
A few moments later it opened into a small little chamber. For some odd reason, there was light in it. Daine looked around, but the light seemed to just be there, an aberrant floating fog.   
  
Without warning, it began to pulse and shift. Daine backed up into the passage as the light swirled around, then collected together to form a glowing—  
  
Ozorne! she thought. The mass of light now was in the shape of the emperor she'd killed, Ozorne of Carthak. The fog grinned, but it seemed different. Something was missing. Then she noticed. His dignity and aloofness that she'd thought had been never-ending had died out, but he was still in several ways the same he had been in life: evil.  
  
There was a bright, blinding flash, then Daine was back on the beach again. The shimmering mass that was Ozorne stood beside her.   
  
"Well, well, well..." he drawled. "I never thought I'd see you like this. And here, of all places." Ozorne grinned. "Or maybe I did. Maybe a special someone has a plan for you." He reached out a transparent finger to Daine; she jumped back, a look of horror on her face.  
  
"I killed you." she whispered, glaring at him. "Go back to the Black God's realm."  
  
"I don't have to. I'm one of the lucky people — or Stormwings — who became a ghost." The man sneered. "I can go wherever I please.  
  
"Now, on to business." The ghost clasped his hands together. "I've been called on, and sent, to tell you that—" He suddenly let out a high, gleeful laugh. "That your death is drawing near. The storm that sank your ship? That was on purpose. You, on this island? That was on purpose also. Indeed, for you are but a pawn for a quest of a friend of mine. He's accomplishing something that was one of my later goals in life, until it was cut short." Ozorne glared at her.  
  
Daine ignored him. "Where's Peseli?"  
  
"Peseli?" He seemed momentarily confused. "You little weather-mage? He was also a pawn. He's been disposed of."  
  
She stared, anger welling up inside. "You killed a harmless boy?" she asked, incredulous.  
  
"It was necessary."  
  
Daine seethed. There was nothing she could do now, though.  
  
"And why are you telling me all this?" she asked.  
  
"It's part of a plan." was the reply.  
  
"WHAT PLAN?!"   
  
"A plan for something I cannot say."  
  
She stood, shaking with anger. With a yell, she threw a punch at the ghost; it went right through him.  
  
Ozorne appeared overjoyed. "I cannot harm you. You cannot harm me. And... I must leave. Farewell."  
  
With yet another grin, he disappeared in a small explosion of light. Daine shielded her eyes with a hand, and when he was gone, put it back down. She was a pawn in a plan? For what? He was probably lying, or trying to worry her to death. The storm was just a coincidence. How stupid of her to believe him. 

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	6. The Duke of the Yamanis

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Six: The Duke of the Yamanis  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: Kinda boring... also, check back to chapter four when you get to the author's note in the middle of this (only if don't remember). 

Reviews are great. 

And, chapter seven will be up pretty quick because I already wrote it about two weeks ago. It's definately the best chapter in this story, although I started crying when I wrote it. Then, there's chapter eight, which I have the name for along with the plot, and that's the end of the story. 

To finish the next chapter of my other story, A Worn Novelty, I NEED to know what Alanna's children are named! Please, please, PLEASE let me know! Thank you so much.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
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Later that day, Daine found a large, looming banana tree. It seemed to be overflowing with fruit. After testing it with her magic for danger, she greedily took nine bananas, and ate them all. She was famished.  
  
When she was finished eating, the girl dragged herself to the shore, where she drank from the ocean. She prayed to the gods that it was not contaminated, and moved back to sit in the sand.   
  
Daine sat there for awhile, thinking. When the sun began to set, she looked down, and realized she'd made a small sand castle, like a child. She grinned. With nothing else to do, she could make all the sand castles she wanted, until she had enough energy to fly back to Tortall. And Numair... maybe...  
  
Glancing out into the ocean, she realized that there was a large lump out there, like a gigantic rock, except gigantic rocks don't have sails. Sails! she realized, and leaped to her feet, shaking with excitement. She wouldn't have to fly home after all.  
  
Impulsively she shape-shifted for the second time that day, this time into a seagull, which would fly well over the water. There was nothing on the island that she needed, so she zipped off into the sunset, speeding toward the ship, not thinking that it could, perhaps, be the ship of an enemy.  
  
It wasn't. Daine recognized the sails of a Yamani merchent ship, with a purple stripe beneath their insignia, meaning royalty was onboard. Sailors pointed up in awe as she speeded down onto the deck, to light on the railing.   
  
"That's not a bird..." someone muttered.  
  
She shifted back to her ratty-clothed human form, and smiled at the small crowd. "No, it's not." They seemed momentarily taken aback.  
  
One of the sailors finally came forward, a short, dark-haired Yamani. "You are Daine the Wildmage, are you not?"  
  
Daine nodded. "Yes."  
  
He looked excited, muttered something about a duke, and ran down the deck. Daine watched him leave, then studied the faces of the people before her. They were all male, with ages ranging from about ten to thirty or fourty. Most of them seemed to be slightly below average in wealth, with their unclean faces and ratty outfits.  
  
Moments later the sailor returned back, leading a harrassed-looking noble, wearing the most expensive clothes she could ever imagine. She realized that she wouldn't be surprised if she learned the thread in his tunic was spun from solid gold. The sailors had began to bow; Daine, unsure of what to do, curtsied.  
  
The noble nodded speedily to the sailors, who all rushed back to cleaning deck floors, or ran off to work down in the galley. His hair was perfect in every single detail. Black as night, it had not a piece out of place. His hair was obviously as royal as his clothes were.  
  
"Good day," he greeted her. Daine nodded, and let him continue. "One of my men has informed me that you are Daine Sarrasri, of the ship who sank whilst bringing us help?"  
  
"Yessir."   
  
"That is wonderful!" The man smiled. "We have been looking for survivors for quite some time."  
  
Daine swallowed. Oh gods, please say yes... "You... haven't managed to find any others, have you?"  
  
"Actually, yes."  
  
She could have leaped, but it wouldn't be proper in the presence of a noble.  
  
"And... introductions must be made." the man paused briefly. "No doubt you are wondering who I am. I am the Royal Duke of the Yamani Islands, Rasazne Dulong."  
  
Daine curtsied again. "I am pleased to meet you, my grace."   
  
Footsteps sounded down the deck, toward Daine and the duke. She turned and saw the face of the oncoming man...  
  
...And collasped onto the floor, the railing behind her. She could not believe it... Goddess...  
  
"Daine," the person said, smiling worriedly down at her.   
  
Dulong bowed, and retreated. He looked back, once, and Daine jumped slightly. A slight shadow had crossed his face; a look of evil. Then she knew. It was the same look Ozorne had given her many times before his death. The look of hatred, of destruction. Of menace and threat.   
  
As quick as it appeared, it was gone, and Dulong was down underneath the deck. It was just her, and this oddly thin man.  
  
She stood, and found herself in a deep hug. It was a hug she remembered well. "Numair?" she whispered.  
  
"Yes, darling."  
  
Daine pulled away and studied him. He seemed a lot thinner than usual, his black mage's robe billowing loosely around him in the breeze(A/N: Hint hint... go back to chapter 4 if you don't remember.).   
  
"Haven't you eaten?" asked Daine. He seemed... starved.  
  
"Yes, but," Numair looked stricken by sadness. "Not a lot. We had a funeral for you. Everyone thought you were dead."  
  
"That's fair... amazing," was all she could say, before being swept into a passionate kiss. She could not think. She could not move.  
  
When they were done at last, she was breathless. Numair brushed her hair out of her face. "I... overheard the duke talking to several of his men."  
  
"Oh?" she asked.  
  
The next part was obviously difficult for him to say. "He says that he plans to have you killed when we arrive at the Yamanis."  
  
"Why? What did I ever do to him?" Daine thought for a minute, then remembered what Ozorne's ghost had said. 'You are but a pawn in a quest of a friend of mine...' "He doesn't happen to have known Ozorne, does he?"  
  
"I am not positive, but I believe so." Numair spoke slowly, thinking out his words carefully.   
  
Daine pondered the past few weeks. Bandit raids on the Yamanis... weakened armies... help from Tortall... a barrier-like storm which sank their ship... Ozorne's warning, if you could call it that... her being conveniently being picked up by the duke's ship. It all fit together: He wanted to take over his home islands, and keep powerful enemies from stopping him... like the Wildmage, Alanna, Numair, and Tortall's finest foot soldiers.   
  
Daine briefly told Numair of Ozorne's visit earlier that day. When she finished, he nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should attempt to convince him to surrender."  
  
She looked off in the direction in which Dulong had disappeared. "Yes," she said softly, "Maybe we should."  
  
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A/N: Remember, to finish the next chapter of my other story, A Worn Novelty, I NEED to know what Alanna's children are named! Please, please, PLEASE let me know! Thank you so much.


	7. A New Kind of Magic

Torn From Hope  
Chapter Seven: A New Kind of Magic  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: Very very long. I was planning to break it in two, but I didn't want all kinds of reviews & flames saying that they hated me for killing... um... well, you have to read it. Or maybe I could've put both chapters up at once. I dunno. 

I'd better get a lot of reviews for this... or else! Just kidding. This is probably the hardest I've worked one any chapter. AND I started crying, when I got to the... uh... yeah. The part. You gotta read to find out. And I'll stoip rambling now... disclaimer below... and then story! Yay!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli, and the Mithran priestie guy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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To the average passer-by, Numair looked as if he had something slightly annoying on his mind, or was waiting for someone who was late, perhaps. Daine knew better. That set, almost distressed look on his face always meant one thing: he was angry, and as he was the most powerful mage in the Eastern Lands, whoever he was mad at had better look out.  
  
"Maybe you should shape-shift and fly to Tortall," Numair suggested in a whisper, in case any spies were about.  
Daine shook her head. "I'm still too weak to go that far." The young woman pushed a stray curl out of her eyes. "And even so, what would I say? 'Oh, the duke of the Yamanis is after me; I need help'? No... I don't believe it would work. We should tell him that we know of his plan, that we have all of Tortall behind us, and... and..."  
  
"But what if he refused to give up, and decided to have you killed here, on this ship? No. Right before we get to the islands, you will shape-shift and escape, understand? I'm not taking chances." Numair's chin was set stubbornly before he added, softer, barely audible, "No chances. Not for my magelet."  
  
Daine turned around. She'd been watching the sea below. "What?"  
  
Something changed within his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing at all."   
  
That night, Daine sat on her bed, worrying. She had been in near-death situations before, ones with even slimmer chances to live than this. This would be easy. She didn't know how she could fly before wearing out, but at least she could still escape.  
  
But a new thought came to her mind: What about Numair? Surely the duke would find out that Numair had told her of his plan to kill her. He'd be executed, too.  
  
Daine slid off of her bed, landing on the wooden floor with a small thump. I'm exhausted, she thought vaguely, before standing and leaving her room. She walked down the hall until she found the room with the number '34'. Before she had a chance to knock, the door opened. The man in the doorway jumped back.  
  
"Daine!" Numair looked surprised. "I was just coming to tell you something."  
  
"Oh, um..." Daine smiled. "Me too."  
  
"Come in for a moment," Numair whispered. Daine walked in and took a seat on a bench as the mage checked the hallway, then warded the room with a spell to keep anyone from spying on them. Finally he sat down beside her.  
  
Daine glanced into his eyes and gulped. He seemed deeply troubled.   
  
"Daine..." Numair stopped, then continued. "I overheard the duke telling one of his men—"  
  
The wildmage cut him off. "You 'overheard' again? You must have very sensitive ears..." she muttered.  
"As I was saying." Numair tried to glare, but couldn't. The uneasy look returned to his face again. "He said he's decided to have it done tomorrow."  
  
"It?" Daine frowned, but remembered. "Oh. It. Me. My death." She shook nervously.  
  
"And you obviously won't have enough strength to fly much more than a mile by tomorrow, so our only alternative would be to confront him, and... let him know."  
  
"What about you? Does he have anything... planned... for you?"  
  
"Yes, about a month from now." No matter how hard they tried, they could not say the 'd' word.  
  
She continued shaking; Numair put a starved arm around her. "Should we go now?" he suggested.  
  
Daine nodded. "It would be better to get it over with."  
  
They stood, and left the room. Numair took away the ward, and Daine shut the door, still shivering nervously. The shadows in the hall seemed alive, dancing, evil. It made her feel slightly disturbed to look at them; she moved closer to the mage.  
  
Moments later the stood in front of the duke's special chambers.   
  
"Ready?" asked Daine.  
  
Numair nodded mutely.  
  
She pushed open the great double door and found Dulong sitting on a low bench, smiling evilly. "I knew you'd come, Veralidaine," he whispered softly. She covered her ears. The sound of his awful voice tore at her, yet it beckoned. Numair put a firm hand on her shoulder, giving her extra confidence inside.  
  
"Give up. We know your plan," she whispered back, eyes intent on his emerald ones.   
  
"Actually," he said, almost politely, "It's quite the contrary to what you think."  
  
Numair stepped away from Daine. "It doesn't matter the steps you take to acheive it. The purpose all the same: taking over these islands."  
  
Daine kept her eyes on the duke's. "And I'm not going to let it happen. Even if this isn't my home."  
  
Dulong rose, still with that odd, half-crazy grin on his face. "How will you stop me?" he called quietly. Suddenly his eyes glazed over, and he looked more insane than ever. The man pulled a lustrous silver object out of his robe pocket: a dagger. Without warning, he threw it straight at Numair.  
  
The knife caught the mage in the chest; with a choked gasp, he fell. Daine grabbed his arm with a screech, letting his weight pull her down with him.  
  
"Numair!" she cried, grabbing at the dagger embedded in him.  
  
His hand came up and weakly brushed hers away. "Don't..." He coughed wetly. "It—won't—save me..." Numair's eyes closed.  
  
"Numair!" Daine shrieked, her voice rising into a wail. "Numair! Numair Salmalín! Arram Draper! Noooo!" She collasped onto his body, weeping desperately. "You can't leave me!"  
  
Memories of times past clouded her vision: when she had first found him, trapped in hawk form in a forest while tending to Onua's herd of horses; when he first taught her about her magic, years ago; when they were in the Divine Realms. "No," whimpered Daine, sobbing loudly. When he'd been sentenced to death in Carthak, when Daine had thought he'd been dead, and attacked the emperor's palace. It had turned out that he'd simply used a simulacrum; now it was different. He really was dying.  
  
His hand, sticky with his own blood, closed around hers. With a loose, raspy breath, he muttered something incomprehensible, then was gone. She kissed him once, on the cheek. "Goodbye," she murmered.  
  
Trembling, Daine rose to face Dulong, her eyes red with tears, and the front part of her dress soaked with Numair's dark blood. "You! Dulong! I hate you!" she screamed, " And I won't regret what I'm about to do!"  
  
Turning, she pulled the dagger out of Numair's chest, and in one motion, threw it at the duke. He leaped out of the way, missing it by a matter of inches. It landed with a thud in a wall.  
  
Daine growled, then threw herself on him, clawing with her fingernails for all she was worth. "Damn you!" she howled, voice twisted with grief and fury, before shape-shifting into a ferocious tiger.  
  
"Damn yourself!" he cried back, reaching into his pocket.  
  
Daine the tiger jumped back. He's probably getting out another dagger, she thought, but he didn't. Dulong kept his hand there as she froze in one spot, planning her next move. Moments passed, but neither moved. Forget the dagger, she thought. I'm getting him! Now!  
  
She pounced into the air in a wide arch, then landed on him, her two-hundred pounds of tiger bowling him over. The man didn't have time to think. Daine bit once, hard, into his neck as he let out an anguishing scream, shaking all over. Then he stopped, and was still.   
  
Daine quickly changed back into her human form. "Duke Dulong?" she asked. There was no answer from the lump on the ground. He was gone, too.  
  
She turned away, and collasped onto a royal lampskin chair, staining it with the blood of two men. "Two royalties down... how many to go now?" she whispered to herself, attempting a joke. A few years ago, she had killed the former emperor of Carthak; now the Yamani Island's duke lay dead, too. She didn't feel happy though. How could you feel happy when you'd just ended someone's life, even if they were evil? And Numair...  
  
She rolled down to the ground and weakly crawled over to the spot where the mage lay. Though he was covered in blood, with a large hole in his shirt, he looked so... peaceful. Daine squeezed in beside him, weeping softly.   
  
  
Daine didn't know how long she lay there sobbing, half-asleep, just that it was morning now, and that no one had come in to check on the duke, which was odd. At last she sat up and looked down at her dress with a sorrowful smile. It was a wrinkled, bloody mess.   
  
She stood, and turned away to gaze out the window, recalling the events of the previous day. Then she remembered Numair, and ducked her head. It had been her idea to confront Dulong, not Numair's. I'm the one who killed him, she thought, then repeated it aloud.  
  
There was a slight pause as it echoed around the duke's chambers. "I'd rather you didn't think that was the cause of Mr. Salmalín's death," a loud, educated voice said behind her. "It's quite a contradiction of the truth."  
  
She frowned. She had to be in denial, or hallucinating. Daine turned, and squeaked when she saw the owner of the voice. It was Numair. He walked over to her; Daine noticed uneasily that there was still a large rip in his shirt, where the dagger had killed him.   
  
She backed up slowly, and Numair stopped when he saw the look on her face.   
  
"What's wrong?" he called softly, "It's me."  
  
"But you're supposed to be—" Daine stopped. She couldn't say the word.  
  
Suddenly two palace guards burst in the room, faces covered in sweat. "The murderers are in here!" one shouted outside. Within seconds, the room was swarming with copper-skinned Yamanis, who pulled her arms behind her, tied them, and tied her feet together also.  
  
They towed her off and down the hallway. She blushed with humiliation. Nobles were staring out at her from safely inside their rooms; many made the Sign against evil. Moments later she sat, gasping, on the dirt floor of a cell in the ship's temporary dungeon.  
  
"This will be your home until your trial," her captors said, pushing Numair in also. There was a screeching noise as one sealed the jail with his Gift before walking away. Daine stared at the dirt floor as the jeering calls of prisoners in other cells echoed throughout the room.  
  
Numair gazed at her, thoughtful. "You think you're delirious, don't you? I'm supposed to be dead and gone."  
  
Daine nodded mutely.  
  
"But the world is full of complex things," he said sensibly. The mage sat down close beside her, putting his hand beneath her chin. He lifted it gently.  
  
"Tell me what you see." Numair whispered, watching her intently. He sat absolutely still.  
  
She quivered slightly, all too aware of his hand on her chin. "I see..." Daine swallowed hard, then started shaking crazily. "I see you. I see Numair."  
  
"Yes, magelet." He took his hand away, then put his arm around her.  
  
"But it's not possible!" she murmered, and began to cry again. She took the kerchief he offered her and blew her nose.  
  
"You used magic to bring me back." Numair put his hand over Daine's mouth before she could answer him. "You used love."  
  
"But how? It's not possible. Are you sure? Love?" she whispered.  
  
"Yes, love, my lovely love."   
  
Daine buried her face in his torn shirt, weeping joyfully. She didn't know how it was possible, but somehow it was Love... a new kind of magic.  
  
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A/N: That's not the end... there's still the trial thingie, you know. And don't ask me why Numair knows that love is how he came back to life. He's the one saying it, not me!


	8. Dawn

Torn From Hope  
Epilogue: Dawn  
by starzsong magick  
  
A/N: DONE! AT LAST! This chapter sucks because I was in a hurry to get it finished... finally.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli, the judge dude, and the Mithran priestie guy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)  
  
  
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Daine yawned, then stretched her cramped legs. They had been in the dungeon for over a day, with no visitors, and she was longing for some kind of exercise. The little cell was protected with magic-blocking spells, so any hope of an escape was small.  
  
Numair sighed beside her. "We should arrive for our trial soon," he murmered softly. "Then we can go home. At last."  
  
She shook her head. "What makes you think they'll believe us?"  
  
The man set his jaw firmly. "They will."  
  
"Whatever you say."  
  
  
The ship sailed into a harbor in the Yamani Islands a few hours later. As the guards led the prisoners out, Daine cringed against the accusing glares of the people around her. They seemed to have no doubt that she killed the duke for her own evil purposes. Let them think what they like, she thought, and held her head high, ignoring them.  
  
They were taken to a little, one-roomed building. Fancy woodwork decorated the walls and there was several rows of benches. At the very front was a large desk. Within minutes the courtroom was filled with Yamanis in kimonos... and several Tortallans in the back.  
  
"Numair... look!" Daine pointed to them. "Horse Lords, there's the Queen, Alanna, Sir Myles..." She rambled off the names of a few more people, then turned to stare into the foreboding eyes of the judge. Nervously she broke contact with him and stared at a painting on one of the walls.  
  
"The accused, the mage Numair Salmalin and wildmage Veralidaine Sarrasri admit to murdering Duke Rasazne Dulong one day ago, above the royal ship Dragonwing. Since they are not of the Yamani Islands, it is up to the monarchs of Tortall to decide their punishment."  
  
With a nod from the judge, Queen Thayet stood up and walked up to stand beside him. Clearing her throat, she began, "Numair and Daine would only kill someone if they had a very big motive. I would like for them to tell their side." She gave them an encouraging wink.  
  
"Numair... you do it," Daine whispered. "You're better at persuading people than I am."  
  
Numair stood and began to tell of the events of the last week, beginning with the storm and Ozorne's warning, and ending with him overhearing Dulong's plans. A lot of the crowd began to look like they believed him, but there were a few who didn't.  
  
"How do you expect us to believe that?" accused a woman, voice thick with a Yamani accent.  
  
Daine did her best to restrain to urge to glare at her.   
  
Suddenly, a boy, about fifteen years old, ran up the aisle and knelt in front of the queen. "Your Majesty, they are telling the truth," he said, voice muffled. "I was on the Dragonwing with them. I heard the duke telling a few of his men of his plans."  
  
"He could be lying, too!" screeched the woman. A few people around her frowned. One muttered, "Shut up, lady."  
  
Another sailor came forward, and said the same that they other said. Finally Thayet opened her mouth and spoke. "They are guilty, but for a good reason. I believe they should go home. Judge?"  
  
The judge agreed. A bell rang, and the crowd began to leave.  
  
"Home?' asked Daine. "I can't wait..."  
  
Numair grinned. "Home at last."


End file.
